


Into the Light

by jackmaybenimble



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-04
Updated: 2007-06-04
Packaged: 2020-11-28 09:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20964095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackmaybenimble/pseuds/jackmaybenimble
Summary: Set immediately at the end of Galileo, Season Two.





	Into the Light

Even if he didn’t have a sixth sense where she was concerned he would have known she was there; he’d heard the swoosh of her silk skirt heralding her arrival moments before. The stride of her long legs, often ill equipped to the confines of formal dress, relished the wide expanse of skirt as she strode down the corridor to him.

She leans on the doorframe, waiting, watching him write, pretending to still have a train of thought and things to say, though she knows he is, as they all are, merely waiting. The rules of their game mean the visitor has to speak first, but she’s a little thrown by the President’s conversation, so instead she waits.

Still feigning disinterest, eyes on his pad, he asks, “What’s the President doing?”

“Talking to it.”

“Oh, well, that ought to do the trick.”

She smiles, following his lead and sits on the arm of his couch, kicking the door closed with her foot. “I told him I’d be in my office.”

“Yeah.”

“You know…in case he heard anything.”

She kicks off her shoes, flexing her tired feet.

“You do know that this is my office though, right?”

“You’re lucky I’m too tired to throw a shoe at your head.”

“The way you throw you’re more likely to hit Sam” he nods his head towards the adjoining office.

“I throw fine!”

A smile twitches at the corner of his lips.

“Is he in there?”

“In the Mess with Josh.”

“He met Mallory tonight. For the first time since the Lori thing. He didn’t call her –“

“I’m barely interested in Sam; can you imagine how little I care about Mallory?”

“What’s made you so cranky? Or more so than normal?” she asks, sliding sideways to land in a heap on his couch.

He doesn’t dignify her with a response.

“Toby...”

“Yeah”

“I think I’m stuck….”

He looks over at her. An eruption of blue silk spills across his couch, CJ entangled in its depths, one end of the wrap trapped in the door, the remainder twisted around her. He stifles a laugh, but permits himself a smile, not least of all because he knows she can’t see him. He sighs melodramatically and crosses the room. Opening the door he releases the wrap, closes the door and walks back to his desk.

“That’s your idea of helping?”

“I find it best to let you work things out yourself. That’s how you learn.”

“How about we let the green beans thing go?” she says, finally discarding the wrap in a pool on the floor.

“Why do you even wear that thing? The last time you wore it you spent all night trying to keep it on!”

“Since when did you take notice of what I’m wearing?”

“Since I was sat next to you at the table and you didn’t stop fidgeting!”

“It keeps my arms warm.”

“Wear a dress with sleeves.”

“Sometimes I find it hard to believe you were ever married, Toby”

“I have the scars to prove it. And the empty bank account.”

“Andy didn’t clean you out. In fact, she gives you alimony.”

“How would you know?!”

“She told me.”

“My ex-wife told you she gives me money?”

“Yes. But in her defense she wasn’t your ex-wife at that point.”

“It gets better. You discussed our financial situation while we were still married?”

“Not exactly.”

“CJ you’re making my head hurt.”

“We talked about it when we were shopping for her wedding dress.”

“Well that was optimistic. Talking about a divorce settlement before we’d actually tied the knot. No wonder it didn’t last. Tempting the -”

“I turned round three times. You make it sound worse than it really was.”

“Not even Josh could put a positive spin on that one.”

“Your couch is really uncomfortable, you know that?”

“What? Have you been taking lessons from Donna?”

“Donna doesn’t have a couch. Where would she put it; she doesn’t have an office?””

“Was there alcohol at this thing? You didn’t mistake the concert for some college drinking game did you?”

“I didn’t play drinking games at college!”

He raises an eyebrow, leans back in his chair, all pretence of writing gone.

“Well, just that one time. And that was Andy’s fault.”

“I may try to blame Andy for many, many things, but she wasn’t even there that night!”

”That’s why!!”

“As I recall, you dragged me back from that dingy bar and insisted we argue about politics. While you drank a considerable amount of tequila and danced to Joni Mitchell for about 5 hours.”

“And when we got up the next morning you met my roommate and fell head over heels in love.”

He smiles softly, nodding. “Yes I did. So all in all, you’re to blame for a lot of things.”

“But not the green beans thing.”

“Enough already with the green beans.”

“And I was good in bed.”

“Yes you were. But I can’t believe you said that in the Oval.”

“That was your fault!”

“God, you’re a one for apportioning blame. It that a Catholic guilt thing?”

“I’m still mad at you.”

“For what?”

“You want a list?”

“Well how about we confine it to this week’s misdemeanors?”

“You hung up on me!”

“I thought we were done talking.”

“I told you I was about to be grabbed by Tad and to keep talking!”

“Grabbed where?”

“He actually accused me of not giving him the job because he split up with me.”

“I thought you split up with him?”

“I did…but that was hardly my point.”

“He’s a tool, CJ. I told you that five years ago. And if anything he’s an even bigger tool now. You have really poor taste in men, you know?”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself Toby.”

“Funny. Talking of which, David says hi.”

“You called him? About this?”

“Nah, I wanted a second opinion on the good in bed thing.”

He ducks as the cushion flies across the room.

“And that’s for the chicken fat gag too.”

He pulls open the bottom desk drawer, withdrawing a bottle of Scotch and two glasses. He half-fills them both, replaces the bottle and holds out a glass to her.  
She crosses the room to him, stumbling on her skirt and rounds his desk, taking the glass from him.

“Don’t try to make up with me. I’m still mad.”

He smiles up at her, knowing she really isn’t.

“So where is Mars?”

“How would I know?”

“Because you know these things.”

He turns to face the window, takes her hand and points to the top left corner of the window.

She sits up on his desk, tucking the tips of her toes onto his chair.

“So what’s the broader theme?”

She thinks for a moment.

“That you have to go to the blackboard, to raise your hand. And it doesn’t matter if you get it wrong. What matters is that you try.”

“Okay. Needs a little polish; I mean, it’s better to raise your hand then go to the blackboard…” she smacks his arm but his words are softened by the hand on her foot.

“So we wait.”

She nods, taking a sip. “We wait. And we see what happens. And we try again if we have to.”

“Story of our lives. Though some things should only be tried once”

“Thanks for that, Oscar Wilde.”

“You’re welcome, Isadora.”

They look out into the dark.

“Galileo Six.”

“Maybe. Could still be Galileo Five.”

“Sounds good to me Toby.”


End file.
